


Strawberries And Cream

by capricasong



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Baking, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, Flirting, Marijuana, Multi, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Negan's Wives - Freeform, Rough Oral Sex, Strawberries, simon teasing main character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 08:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capricasong/pseuds/capricasong
Summary: Helena makes Negan a sweet surprise. Angst, smut, and flirting.





	Strawberries And Cream

**Author's Note:**

> Ok! This is my first writing challenge entry ever and I had SO much fun writing it. Couple of things:
> 
> This takes place in the same universe as Saviors and Sinners, BUT its from Helena's POV, which never happens. Should more often though. I love being in Helena's head.
> 
> I took some liberties with the wives. I didn't know all their names so I made some up. Kimber Lynn (Kipsy), Helena, and Rikki are all original characters of mine. 
> 
> Helena has a lot of anxiety, and some PTSD.
> 
> This is almost definitely a one shot.

I giggled and tugged at Negan's hand, pointing. 

"We're going to have strawberries soon!" He grinned at me indulgently and I went on,  
"Strawberries are my favorite, Negan!" 

He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, "They're going to taste just as weet as you, aren't they?"

I nuzzled my face into his chest, hiding the blush that was burning up my cheeks, but he knew me better than that.  
"Hey! What did I tell you about hiding that pretty face from me?"

He tilted my face up so he could see it with a finger under my chin and laughed gently when he saw how flushed I was. 

"How in the hell are you still so shy? You do fine when Rikki is around."  
"That's because Rikki is around. She puts me at ease. You... you know damn well you do the opposite."

His eyes went serious. "Are you ok, Helena?"  
"I'm fine. I just..." my free hand waffled as I searched for the right words. 

He was always so good about being aware of the anxiety that would scream through my brain, the PTSD that left me nervous, skin hungry and scared, always needing reassurance. I only found peace when I was baking, or in his arms. He kept me well supplied, so I could bake pretty much any time I wanted to, but getting to be wrapped up in him didn't happen nearly often enough. He knew that too, but he spent as much time with me as he could, and for that, I was eternally grateful. I loved every second I had with him. 

-

Every few days I checked on the strawberries, following their development carefully, and when they were finally ripe I picked a bucketful to take up to my kitchen, eager to use and eat them. 

I was making my way back, gleefully eating a piece of the sweet fruit when I bumped into Simon. I tried to duck out of the way, but he caught my arm and held me under the light, inspecting me. My cheeks flushed instantly, thinking of my tousled hair, my short, disheveled dress, the strawberry dripping juice down my chin and fingers. He seemed to notice all this too. 

"Now, where did you get those?"  
I took a breath, trying to calm my nerves. "They're growing wild...out by the fence."

I tried to lower my hand with the strawberry in it, but he grabbed my wrist, holding it suspended between us. His eyes were locked on mine and we were suddenly very alone in the hallway. I tried to swallow, duck away, close in on myself, but he wouldn't let me. He held me there, in the light, his eyes traveling over my face and body as surely and greedily as Negan's hands ever had. It was getting hard to breathe under this level of scrutiny. I almost wished he would just touch me, because there would be less tension then. There was so much tension. It was singing through my body, pulling my muscles tight, constricting my breath. 

I leaned my face up, lips parted, offering myself to him. I didn't know exactly what he had in mind, but it was always easier with the Saviors to just give in and not fight, so I offered myself freely. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. It was more than that though. Simon had always been someone I'd noticed, but never pursued. I didn't pursue anyone, except Rikki. She was another story for another time though. Simon lowered his head towards me. I caught my breath, closing my eyes-

and he was gone. 

I looked up in surprise and found him eating the strawberry that he'd taken out of my hand with the biggest grin on his face. I stumbled back against the wall and didn't know what to feel. Embarrassed? Relieved? Surprised? I blinked, and was about to turn away and head into the kitchen, where I could hopefully forget about all of this, when he stopped me again. He popped another strawberry into his mouth with a self-satisfied grin, and still managed to whisper in my ear,  
"Don't think I'm going to forget that look you gave me darlin'."

-

I closed the door to the kitchen gratefully. This, finally, was my space. I wouldn't be disturbed here. No one came in here except Negan, or in an emergency, Rikki. 

I set to work baking almost immediately. I needed something to do, and I was eager to forget myself in the sharp tangy smells of the cooking fruit, the feel of the whisk in my hand, the rhythms of baking and stirring. I worked for hours, only leaving to refill my bucket of fruit once. I made jam and mixed up ice cream, but my pride and joy was the beautiful layered strawberry shortcake that I was putting together. It was topped with oodles of strawberries and fresh cream. It was beautiful, begging to be eaten, the fruit and juices as bright as blood against the delicate angels food cake. It was perfect. It tasted like heaven. We didn't often have the supplies for me to really go all out, so when we did, I made damn sure that the final product was something well worth the effort. I couldn't wait to surprise him with this particular treat. 

I wandered over to my room and pulled on a fresh dress, free of flour and all signs of baking. It was a flowy, sweet thing that hit at about knee level. I brushed my long red hair out until it hung in fluffy waves like a cloud around me. My skin was bright and flushed, my freckles standing out like a million stars. He loved me like this. He would stand me in front of the mirror and run his hands along my curves and tell me every single thing he loved about my body. He would wrap us both in my hair and until I giggled and then press me against the cold surface of the mirror and fuck me from behind, telling me to watch how goddamn beautiful I was. 

-

I walked down to the study ready to flirt, ready to present him with the excellent surprise I'd made. But I found everyone quite busy. Olivia was draped in Negan's lap, the two of them engrossed in a movie while Kipsy and Sherry played cards. Joanna was reading, and Rikki, nowhere to be found, was definitely up on the roof. I grinned at Negan, and was already making my way towards him, ready to greet him with a kiss when he grinned right back, and I noticed the way Olivia's eyes were closed and her breath was coming in little pants. Ah. Negan's hand was up her dress. I fumbled for a second and gave a nervous sort of wave at him before I turned and fled up the stairs towards the roof, and hopefully Rikki. So stupid. I hated hated hated that awkward feeling I always got when I interrupted Negan with another one of the girls. I wasn't jealous of any of them, that wasn't it. Negan paid us all plenty of attention and we were free to amuse ourselves with each other and his top men, within reason. I did miss him though. He was a busy, important man. He always had a lot to do, and I would have been content to just follow him around all day and sit at his feet during meetings. Not that I would ever say such a thing to him. So no, I wasn't jealous. I just hated getting in his way when he was busy. 

Rikki and Dwight were tangled together on the roof, kissing enthusiastically. I tried to duck away, but somehow, even tangled up in Dwight, she noticed me. She always noticed me. She broke away from him and came for me at a run.  
"Oh no you don't! You actually look like one of us tonight!"  
"Yeah. I wanted to look good for Negan. But he was..."  
"Olivia has been hot and bothered all day. She was all over him right?"  
"Literally."

Dwight barked out a laugh and offered me a joint they'd obviously been sharing. I inhaled gratefully, coughing as the harsh smoke permeated my lungs. It was good though. It calmed me almost as much as Rikki pulling me in tight against her chest. 

The three of us stayed up on the roof for a long time, talking and smoking. When we finally did wander back down to the study, we found it dark and empty. Negan's room, on the other hand, was full of laughter and other, deeper sounds. I couldn't impose on Rikki any more that night. I trudged back to my own room alone, more than a little disappointed. I hated waiting. I hated nights alone. More than anything I wanted to just have the courage to knock on Negan's door and just tell him that I needed some attention, but I would never do that. I would never dream of taking time away from other girls who he maybe didn't spend as much time with. 

-

Morning found me up early. I never slept well alone. I'd pulled my hair up into a hasty bun when I was sleeping and hadn't bothered to do anything with it yet this morning. I wandered into my kitchen in last night's dress, just wanting some peace, and maybe something sweet. I settled on a bowl of strawberries with just a tiny bit of powdered sugar. Perfect. I was sitting cross-legged, on the floor, eating strawberries and actually managing to cheer myself up when the door opened, and Negan walked in.

He startled me and I jumped, moving to straighten up, but he soothed me with a gesture.  
"It's alright Helena. It's alright. Finish eating."

He sat down next to me, smoothing a hand over my hair and I instantly leaned into the touch, almost purring. I completely ignored what he said about finishing my food and crawled into his lap, curling into his chest, my hands sliding under the fabric of his shirt. Bare skin contact always made me feel better. 

He laughed a little.  
"Did you miss me, sweetheart?"

I nodded into his chest, realized he might not be able to see it and murmured a soft, "Yes sir."

We were quiet for a few minutes, and he just held me, stroking my hair. I loved quiet moments like this. They kept me alive. 

I shifted a little and flashed him a smile.  
"I've got a surprise for you."  
"Oh?"

I jumped up and pulled on his arm,  
"Come on come on! Close your eyes! You're going to love this!"

He stood up and and surprised the hell out of me by actually leaning back and closing his eyes for me. I turned to the cooler where the cake was waiting and loaded up a spoon with some of the delicious confection. I approached him slowly, knowing how much he disliked situations like this. I let the line of my body just barely press against his, so he knew where I was, and whispered against his cheek,  
"Now open your mouth."

He did. No wisecracking. It was a goddamn miracle. I held the spoon to his lips, but let him take it at his own pace. I couldn't help giggling a little as he slid the whole thing into his mouth. He grabbed the handle, hand closing over mine with his eyes still shut, and pulled the spoon out. I watched him chew slowly, clearly savoring the taste. When he opened his eyes, his whole face lit up with wonder and joy. 

"Hol-eee shit sweetheart! Are you motherfucking serious?"  
I grinned. "You like it?"  
He pulled me in, the spoon clattering somewhere behind him and pressed his lips against mine, tasting of strawberries and cream. 

"You bet your sweet ass I do!" He kissed me again, harder this time. "Now," he growled, "Take off that dress. I want you naked, feeding me that cake by the motherfucking spoonful."

I blinked in surprise and he growled again, "I don't have all fucking day, sweetheart."

So I did what I was told. The dress slid to the floor, and I shuddered as the morning air hit my skin. His grin was everything as his eyes slid over my body. I took a shaky step towards him and watched the anticipation slide across his face. 

I fed him carefully, delicately, and he ate with relish, turning almost childlike with glee at times. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before and it made me giddy to watch him like this. 

 

Finally he dropped the spoon, grabbing my hand and guiding it very decisively down the front of his jeans, where I found him hard and ready. I shivered from the feel of it. I'd been waiting for this. 

"On your knees, sweetheart."

I complied instantly, looking up at him through my lashes. He grabbed me by the back of the neck, making me gasp, and shoved my face against the hardness of him. I knew what he wanted, and pressed a kiss against him through the cloth of his pants. His hand slid from the top of my head and down around my chin, and he moved me back enough to unzip his fly and pull himself out. 

God, he was beautiful. I preferred him shirtless and sleepy, or fresh out of the shower, but fully dressed and bossy worked just fine too. I tried to take him into my mouth slowly, but he wasn't having it. "God fucking dammit, Helena. Hold still." He grabbed onto me, one hand on each side of my face and I knew what was about to happen, but that didn't make me ready for it. I took a breath, opened wide, and he shoved himself into my mouth violently. I let out a little cry, more of surprise than anything else, and he snickered and paused for a moment to make sure I was okay before his grip tightened and he started fucking my mouth. His movements were harsh and greedy and I closed my eyes, moaning in pleasure at the taste of him, the feel of him taking exactly what he wanted from me. I loved it when he used me, made me his play-thing. I surrendered myself to harsh rhythm, letting go and letting him hold me up, hold me in place. "Fuck Helena.." I heard him moan, but it hardly registered. My mind was everywhere and nowhere. There was only this moment, his desire breaking over me in wave after wave of pleasure that left me soaked as surely as any ocean. I was dripping wet. I could feel it sliding down my legs. I would have moaned if I could have. His voice was strangled with effort,  
"I'm not gonna fucking last, doll."

He was telling me there wouldn't be more. No sex this morning. There was no time, or good way for me to respond, as his rhythm stuttered and became erratic. His breathing was loud, ragged, and he was panting out "fuck..fuck..fuck.." in time with every thrust. The orgasm hit and he thrust hard, letting out a final, triumphant, "fuck!"

I collapsed backwards, swallowing the last traces of him, and he joined me after a moment, laughing in that wonderfully warm, self satisfied way. I grinned and he pulled me closer,  
"Goddamn woman. The things I would do to you if I had the time."  
"Yeah yeah. You are all talk and no action, mister."

He grinned at me with all the affection in the world and kissed me long and thorough, tasting faintly of strawberries and cream.


End file.
